[*in a universe far from this one, Esther melts into her lord's embrace, her eyes fluttering closed, desire flaming to sudden and brilliant life with every memory of your talented hands caressing the strings or the keys or the bow, your million-dollar voice whispering melodies into a stunned and shadowed hall—and she would give anything, anything to taste every ounce of your sweetness and perhaps, perhaps learn what it is to love you this way, too*]
*in this universe, melts just as easily (and yes, her mind races with memory and sensation, because you are every woman's fantasy and she knew she was adored even before you claimed her lips)*
*tightens her hand against your chest, fraction by fraction, until she's gripping the fabric hard (please be a dream)* *shoves with all her might, tearing free of your hold and stumbling back until she falls into your chair, gasping, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment (and not a little arousal, oh god, how you must know it)*
*presses herself back into the chair and stares up at you, furious and halfway to frightened* *nearly spluttering* What the hell—?! I quit. You're married! And gay! And I quit!! *curls her fingers tight against the armrests, breaking two nails in the process* *hisses* WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?